


When All Your Dreams Have Come True

by WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, I had to write this, Pancakes, happiness, not sorry, pure fluff, so pure, so soft, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9408335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks/pseuds/WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks
Summary: Sunday mornings at the Alver household.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I felt the need to write the softest Roisa piece ever, so here it is! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Luisa smiled softly as she freed herself from Rose’s loose embrace, careful not to wake the sleeping woman as she slipped out of bed.

She looked at Rose for a moment, everything about her looked so soft in that moment; her frizzy, red curls sprawled out over the pillow, the orangey freckles dusting the peach-like skin of her arms and torso and her face was totally relaxed.

Soft was not a word Luisa often used to describe Rose - she was sharp both in personality and intellect -  but when she was asleep that didn’t really show and “soft” applied to her then.

Leaning in, she brushed a kiss against Rose’s cheek. It was a rare occasion that she woke before the other woman, and she wanted to make the make use of it by making them breakfast in bed. Rose was skilled at a great many things, but baking pancakes wasn’t one of them and Luisa had been craving them all week, so she was just going to have to make them herself.

She picked up the shirt Rose had haphazardly discarded the previous night, and slipped it on. It was one of the shirts Rose put on over her usual clothes when she was painting, and as a result it fell well past mid-thigh on Luisa.

The shirt smelled of Rose and of the oil paints she used; one of Luisa’s favorite combinations of smells. She smiled as she noticed the dried splatters of paint on the cuffs of the shirt as she rolled them up, lots of blues and greens and a little white. She assumed Rose was working on one of her “recreations” of famous paintings. Luisa would call them forgeries, but after Rose had assured her that she would never pass them off as the real thing they had settled on the term “recreations”.

She made her way into the kitchen, safely wrapped in Rose’s soft, too big, plaid shirt. Humming some song underneath her breath she grabbed the ingredients she needed and weighed them carefully.

She was in the middle of mixing the batter when two arms wrapped around her waist from behind, Rose softly nuzzling the side of her neck.

‘Good morning,’ Luisa said cheerily, turning her head to capture Rose’s lips in a soft kiss.

‘Good morning,’ Rose breathed softly, resting her chin on Luisa’s shoulder, her arms still wrapped around her waist, swaying her softly.

‘How did you sleep?’ Luisa asked, continuing to whisk the batter like Rose had not attached herself to her back like a baby koala bear.

‘I slept great,’ Rose said, her voice still a little hoarse and rough from sleep. Luisa thought it was equal parts adorable and sexy. ‘How about you?’

‘So did I. Which is why I decided to extend my great mood a little and make us pancakes for breakfast.’

‘Sounds delicious,’ Rose hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of Luisa’s neck.

Luisa walked around to the stove, Rose following her around the kitchen, still firmly attached to her back.

‘This might go faster if you let go,’ Luisa laughed, melting some butter in the pan in preparation for the pancakes.

‘I don’t want to,’ Rose whined. ‘You’re soft and warm,’ she said, snuggling into Luisa even further. ‘And you stole my shirt.’

‘Rose, I can’t bake pancakes like this,’ Luisa laughed.

‘Fine, I will let you bake your pancakes,’ Rose said, reluctantly letting Luisa slip out of her arms. ‘Because they do smell really good,’ Rose said, inhaling deeply as Luisa ladled batter into the hot pan.

‘So when can I see the painting you are doing?’ Luisa asked as Rose walked around the kitchen, dressed only in panties and a too small t-shirt, showing off the bottom half of her stomach.

‘Once it is finished,’ Rose grinned, starting to slice oranges.

‘You are never so secretive about the things you work on,’ Luisa protested, skillfully flipping the pancake over in mid-air. ‘You haven’t let me into your studio all week.’

 ‘Maybe I just want it to be a surprise,’ Rose shrugged as she squeezed out the fresh oranges into a glass pitcher.

‘Why?’ Luisa asked, narrowing her eyes. ‘You said you were working on the Monet; I know what it looks like.’

‘I already finished the Monet,’ Rose said, starting to set the table as Luisa continued baking pancakes.

‘Then what are you working on?’ Luisa asked, now completely lost.

‘An original,’ Rose said.

‘I thought you said you didn’t do originals!’ Luisa exclaimed. Rose drew plenty of original works, but she had staunchly refused to paint anything not worth millions of dollars.

‘I don’t usually,’ Rose shrugged. ‘But not being able to sell my recreations takes some of the fun out of it. So I might as well paint something new.’

Luisa laughed. ‘Well, I can’t wait to see what you came up with.’

‘I am nearly done, so if you give me my shirt back…’ Rose husked, pulling playfully on the collar of Luisa’s, _her_ , shirt, ‘I will show it to you tonight.’

‘Let’s eat first, then you can have your shirt back,’ Luisa grinned, finishing her stack of pancakes and carrying the plate to the table.

‘I will hold you to that,’ Rose grinned, digging into her pancake, moaning softly as she did so…

* * *

 

…. Luisa blinked lazily as she tried to figure out what had woken her, noticing the sun shining right into her eyes through the gap in the curtains.

She was annoyed for a moment because she had been having the best dream, but then Rose made a soft noise behind her and she remembered that her dream didn’t need to stay a dream.

She carefully extracted herself from Rose’s sleepy embrace, picking the redhead’s discarded, paint covered, shirt up off the floor making her way into the kitchen; the dream had made her hungry for pancakes.

About ten minutes later, Rose walked into the kitchen, sleepily wrapping her arms around Luisa’s middle, resting her chin on Luisa’s shoulder.

‘Did you sleep well?’ Rose asked as she pulled away from their soft good morning kiss.

‘I had the best dream,’ Luisa smiled as she poured batter into a hot frying pan, Rose still clinging to her.

‘What about?’ Rose asked, kissing the side of her throat.

‘Us having pancakes for breakfast,’ Luisa smiled.

‘You know,’ Rose grinned. ‘They say that when you dream about your everyday life, you are truly happy.’

Luisa smiled back, she was happy. Right here, encircled by Rose’s arms in their kitchen she was the happiest she’d ever been.


End file.
